


Belong

by Flufferdoodle



Series: falling slowly [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Time Travel, M/M, Snapshots, Time Travel, Time Travel Fix-It, Vague, af, don't read this without reading the first one, kinda angsty, sorry - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-29
Updated: 2017-01-29
Packaged: 2018-09-20 17:42:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,697
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9502817
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Flufferdoodle/pseuds/Flufferdoodle
Summary: Things get better before they get worse, and worse before they get better. Harry doesn't belong here, but he can't belong anywhere, and Tom will never understand that.ORBrief snapshots of a life that shouldn't exist.





	

 

Their first date went terribly. All Harry wanted to do in Hogsmeade was wander through the Quidditch shops and Zonko’s, where Tom naturally drifted towards the book and antique stores. They tried to appease each other, both constantly bored and frustrated until they found themselves in the Three Broomsticks sipping Butterbeer.

 

\--

 

“What’s the future like?”

“Sucky.”

“Eloquent as ever, Harry.”

“Well, I mean, I came back because it sucked, did I not?”

“...Did you have someone in the future?”

“What does that even  _ mean _ , Tom?”

“I mean were you in a romantic relationship in the future?”

“Oh. No.”

“Why not?”

“I dunno. Everyone I liked found someone else at first, and then the whole war and everything kind of made it hard for me to find someone. Like, a lot of people were desperate to find love  _ because _ of the war and life’s gonna be over soon and all that, but I just didn’t have time.”

“Ah.”

“Why do you ask?”

“No reason.”

 

\--

 

Their fifth date went much better, until the end. Harry always assumed he’d be the first one to make a move, really, because even if Tom  _ was _ taller Harry was  _ older  _ and more worldly and just naturally the person who’d wear the pants in this sort of deal, honestly, but he still winded up arms pinned above his head into the brick wall of Honeyduke’s as Tom kissed him, desperately pushing against the shorter time-traveller. The reversed roles were  _ not  _ appreciated, especially when Tom refused to stop smirking about it later.

 

\--

 

“You were in Hufflepuff, right? In the future?”

“ _ Hufflepuff _ ?”

“Yes. With all the love and loyalty to all your friends, and all that.”

“No. Gryffindor.”

“ _ Oh _ .”

“Don’t ‘oh’ me,  _ Slytherin _ .”

“I suppose that makes sense. That explains your recklessness, for sure, and hero complexes are just as much as Gryffindor traits as they are Hufflepuff.”

Harry scowled.

“Gryffindor. My little lion,” Tom cooed, rolling over. Harry grunted as the larger boy crawled on top of him, and refused to respond as Tom kissed him.

But then, Tom did that stupid  _ thing _ with his hips, and any resistance melted away.

 

\--

 

“What are we trying to even accomplish with this?” Harry groaned, legs thrown over the backside of the couch. “Pain relief? Soul removal?”

Tom shrugged. “Personally, I aim to eventually find a way to get my soul back into me from you, but if that proves to be impossible, well, I should at least stop hurting after seven years, correct?”

Harry scowled at him. “Pain relief or soul removal?”

“Whichever’s possible, Harry.”

 

\--

 

Tom graduated, top of his class, and Harry wouldn’t stop crying when he accepted a Ministry internship.

When Tom asked his lover why, Harry simply shook his head.

“It’s been changed,” he whispered hoarsely.

Tom blinked. “Okay.”

They gathered their possessions out of their rooms, and met outside the Hogsmeade station, ready to leave Hogwarts for the summer.

“Where are you going to live?” Tom asked after a moment.

“I don’t know.”

“Move in with me.”

Hesitation.

“Okay.”

 

\--

 

Dumbledore accepted the position as Headmaster, Merrythought retired, and Tom couldn’t help the bitterness when Harry received a letter requesting him to apply for the new DAtDA position.

“Tom, you  _ have a job _ ,” Harry argued. “At the Ministry of Magic, even! You’re on your way to becoming a politician!”

“He didn’t even offer,” Tom snapped back. “It should be me!”

“I know more defense magic than you! I know  _ future _ defense magic, even!”

“I have experience with the Dark Arts that neither you nor that old fool can even comprehend!”

“I don’t have a job, Tom! I need a career! I have no documents, still! Nothing! Why can’t you just be happy for me?”

“It’s not my fault you came from the future!”

“I  _ HAD TO COME  _ because of  _ YOUR SELFISHNESS! _ ”

Both of them stood, knuckles white, magic crackling, gazes unbroken.

“Selfishness?” Tom echoed. “The selfishness of sharing all I own with you, of letting you stay here without paying a penny of rent? Fine, then. I refuse to burden you anymore with it. I want you out by tomorrow - good luck finding a new home.”

“No need. I’ll have one at Hogwarts.”

 

\--

 

Tom cradled his head in his knees, surrounded by broken glass from the night before, heart aching more than he could ever remember.

 

\--

 

Tom showed up a month after school started in Harry’s quarters, roses in hand.

“Forgive me.”

“Of course.”

“I’m happy for you.”

“Thank you.”

“It hurt.”

“Of course it does. Two more years, and you’ll stop aching. Three more years, and you won’t need me. Or, maybe, I can get this stupid thing out before then, and we can end this sooner.”

To that, Tom has nothing to say.

 

\--

 

“DAtDA  _ and _ Quidditch Coach  _ and _ Head of Gryffindor?” Tom questioned, stroking Harry’s hair. “Surely this is all too much to ask?”

“No. Keeps me busy, makes me happy,” Harry mumbled. “Besides, Dumbledore asked.”

“Dumbledore’s man, through and through.”

“‘Til the day I die.”

 

\--

 

“I don’t see you enough.”

“And I don’t see  _ you _ enough.”

Tom and Harry sat across the table, pained.

“You need to relieve some of your duties,” Tom commanded, but Harry shook his head.

“I love my jobs here, Tom. And you’re plenty busy yourself, Mr. Secretary of Magic.”

“Harry, we can’t let this connection die,” Tom said, clasping his hands together. “It hurts, still, when you’re gone.”

“Two more years, Tom, and it’ll be over. You’ll heal, and maybe the pain will go away. Tom, I’m sorry, but I can’t give this up. I don’t belong in this time, we both know that, but I belong in Hogwarts, and I can’t leave.”

They embraced, but Tom still ached.

 

\--

 

“One more year, and you’ll be healed, Tom.”

“I know. Exactly one.”

Harry shivered, burying his face into the taller man’s neck. “I don’t want to let this go,” he whispered.

“Hm?”

“...Nothing.”

 

\--

 

Tom looked over Harry’s shoulder at the calendar. Seven years and one day.

“You no longer hurt?” Harry asked quietly.

Tom shook his head. “I don’t.”

“Then… it’s time to stop trying, right? Stop trying to make this work between us?”

“You still hold my soul.”

“And I can’t give it back, Tom. We… we can’t,  _ you know _ , if we were… If we were going to love each other enough for that sort of magic to work, we would’ve done so by now.” Harry took a deep breath, and Tom felt his stomach flip with pity as the shorter male shook. “At least you’re not hurting for it now.”

“I… I suppose.”

“Please take your diary. I can’t bear to have it around.”

 

\--

 

“Harry, we can’t keep doing this.”

“Then stop coming.”

“I can’t.”

“Tom, I will never refuse you. You know that, right?”

“You need to, though.”

“No, Tom, I don’t.”

 

\--

 

“Harry, I might get married.”

Harry froze, shirt halfway buttoned.

“What?”

“Walburga Black. She and I have been… involved, for a while now. She is rather interested in me, and being tied to the black family would boost my standing with purebloods in the Ministry.”

Harry found himself immobile for a grand total of thirteen seconds before he grabbed the nearby lamp and flung it at Tom’s head, who ducked. The second he raised his head he got nailed by the muggle alarm clock instead, and suddenly Harry was screaming, and Tom’s nose was bleeding, and they were staying in a  _ muggle neighborhood right now _ and now Harry had his wand out and someone was going to  _ call the cops and walk in on this  _ and Tom couldn’t-

 

\--

 

“Why?”

The entire apartment was in pieces, with tiny glass shards shining on the hard floor among small drips of blood and various seasonings pouring out of their now-broken containers. A hole in the drywall now connected the bathroom and kitchen, and the shower rod leaned at a weird angle with Tom’s too-expensive shampoo pooling at the bottom of the bath. Outside, the sun set, and the room grew dimmer with the shattered lights off. A breeze fluttered the curtains, and honks of geese could be heard through the window. A splintered chair barricaded the door, and the round table was still gently rocking back and forth on its side.

“Why what, Harry?” Tom asked, squeezing him closer. He sat in the corner, Harry in his lap, with a perfect view of the carnage. Both their wands sat on the opposite side of the room, signalling the time for peace.

“Why are we here, if you’re to be married? Why didn’t you tell me earlier? Why would you choose her? Why not me? Why?”

Tom ran his hand up and down Harry’s side. His soul was in him, somewhere, he knew. A piece of Tom, a  _ literal piece of Tom _ , lived inside this precious man.

“I didn’t think of it like that,” Tom assured him. “I do not love her, Harry, nor will I ever. But I need to marry, and soon, and she is a good choice as far as politics go. The Ministry does not like old bachelors, and the purebloods will not listen to me unless I marry someone of a good family.”

“You’re the bloody Heir of Slytherin! What more could a pureblood  _ want? _ ”

“Harry,” Tom scolded quietly. “They can’t know that, can they now?”

“I’m a Potter,” Harry sobbed. “I told you that, didn’t I? Charlus Potter’s my grandfather, and-and-and generations back they connect with the Blacks and the-e Weasleys and Malfoys too, probably, since it’s all in-inbred…”

“Please,” Tom whispered. “Don’t be upset.”

“Don’t do it.”

“I can’t promise either way right now, Harry.”

“I can’t lose you.”

Tom began to massage Harry’s shoulders, just in the way he knew he liked, and refused to say more.

 

\--

 

Harry watched two women stroll down Diagon Alley, one brown-haired and clearly pregnant and the other red-head already holding a cooing baby.

“Isn’t Arthur just the cutest?” She fawned to her companion. “I can’t wait for him to meet yours. It’ll be so good for him to have a friend-isn’t that right, Arthur? Yes it is! Yes it is!”

Arthur.

Arthur Weasley.

Baby Arthur Weasley.

Tom came home to find Harry passed out on the still dirty floor, surrounded by empty bottles of firewhiskey.

 

\--

 

“I have declined Walburga’s offer of marriage,” Tom stated. Harry looked up from his suitcase, overflowing with clothes and trinkets. He would leave for Hogwarts the next morning.

“Really?” He didn’t even bother trying to hide the delight in his voice.

“Yes. The Blacks are not pleased with me.”

“Sorry.”

“That was the least apologetic ‘sorry’ I have heard in my entire life, Harry,” Tom snapped. “Don’t make me regret this.”

That night, he didn’t, but when morning came and Harry left on his own for King’s Cross Station, well, to say Tom felt a bit moody was quite an understatement.

 

\--

 

“Tom, come on, it’ll be fun,” Harry insisted. Tom watched unamused as Harry attempted to clean his quarters for once. The mess appeared that it had been accumulating over at least a month, but hey, at least Harry was doing something about it now.

“I cannot. I am too busy with the upcoming elections-”

“Tom, it’s over holiday. Nobody cares about politics during holiday.”

“I care,” he said stiffly.

“Please. Two days is all I ask.”

Tom huffed. “I’ll consider.”

 

\--

 

Tom felt Harry’s smile against the crook of his neck as they swayed gently back and forth, the Yule Ball officially over. Their feet moved to the rhythm only they could feel in the dim lights, the previously bright and glittering crystals casting dark shadows all about.

“This was a dance for schoolchildren, Harry,” Tom finally whispers, fingers gently pulsing against his lover’s hips. He was all too aware of the blood coursing back and forth, of the heat they shared between them.

“It was a dance for Hogwarts,” Harry muttered back after a moment. “I believe that includes the both of us.”

“I no longer attend here.”

“No,” Harry agreed. Silence settled in once more. Each simple step let out the quietest echos in the ballroom. “I like these robes on you. So elegant.”

“I fail to see how they could seem anything but rags in comparison to you.”

Harry chuckled, the room filling for an instant with his delight.

“Christmas tomorrow, Tom.”

“Yes. I know.”

“And then your birthday.”

“Yes.”

“And then back to work.”

“As if we could have it any other way.”

“Tom?”

“Yes, Harry?”

“I don’t want you to leave.”

“I know.”

 

\--

 

“Why are you so opposed to this? You could  _ easily  _ get a job as an Auror, and we could be together.”

“Because Hogwarts is my home, Tom. I don’t belong in this time.”

“You’ve lived in this time for longer than you lived in your own!”

“I don’t belong here.”

And he just looked so shattered, so  _ lost _ , and Tom couldn’t help him.

 

\--

 

“Is this because you’ve already stopped  me?”

Harry looked up from his book. “What? Stop you from what, Tom?”

“From becoming Voldemort. You stopped me, your purpose is done here, and now you don’t care.”

Harry blinked. “Why are you bringing this up now, Tom. We’re about to go to a Ministry Dinner, for Merlin’s sake! Can’t we argue about this later?”

“You’re not denying it.”

“You’re insufferable!”

“And you don’t care!”

“I  _ do _ care! Why the bloody hell do you think I leave Hogwarts for you? Every summer, Tom, I do and I come and live with you!”

“You don’t  _ want  _ to leave that castle ever? Are you serious?”

“How many times do I have to tell you? I don’t belong here! Being here  _ hurts _ !”

 

\--

 

“I don’t belong here, Tom! The only way I’ve made it this far is because of Dumbledore-”

“I don’t care about Dumbledore! I want you to move in with me - to  _ be _ with me! You made me reject marriage once already, and all I want is-”

“I can’t give that to you! I’m sorry, but I can’t!”

“You can, you stupid git! You just choose not to! You would’ve years ago, why not now?”

And now Harry was in his arms, trying not to cry and failing, lean form shaking, shaking, shaking.

“I still have nightmares,” he said, voice cracking. “I still have nightmares about the future sometimes, and still I wish… I wish I could go  _ back. _ I miss my life.”

Tom’s heart sunk.

“How could this not be your life? You’ve lived here so long.”

“It grows worse and worse every day now. It was bad when I first came here, feeling like I didn’t belong, and it faded with… with you. I-I talked to Dumbledore about it and he said t-that I probably will never… never feel right here, and it’ll just keep getting worse with every day, every year, every…”

Tom ran his fingers through Harry’s hair.

“I have to stay at Hogwarts, Tom. I don’t feel safe anywhere else.”

“I’m sorry.”

Harry couldn’t say that it was okay, it wasn’t his fault, because, once again, it was.

 

\--

 

“What if I’m not born this time?” Harry’s green eyes remained fixed on the ceiling.

“Well, you already exist here, so I doubt there’d be any issues.”

“What if Ron’s not born? If Hermione’s not born? Preventing the rise of the Death Eaters changed a lot of circumstances, and the same situations might not happen.”

“Then they’re not. Someone else will be.”

“I killed them.”

“No, you stopped their existence. Very different.”

“They aren’t alive because of me.”

“So? Whoever’s going to born in this timeline would be ‘dead’ in your previous one.”

“But they didn’t exist to begin with. That’s different.”

“And if Ron and Hermione don’t exist this time, then they didn’t exist to begin with.”

“I wonder if the other timeline still exists.”

“If it did, then wouldn’t everyone be dead in it without you?”

Harry flinched.

 

\--

 

“Marry me. Please.”

Harry stared at him, hollow. “I can’t leave Hogwarts.”

“You don’t have to.”

 

\--

 

“I’m proud of you.”

 

\--

 

“Everyone’s growing up.”

 

\--

 

“I’m teaching my best friend’s father.”

 

\--

 

“It doesn’t hurt so much anymore. With you.”

 

\--

 

“Thank you. For everything.”

 

\--

 

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

**Author's Note:**

> I hate the ending of this. I'm sorry. I just couldn't fit in the moments the way I wanted to and it just left out a ton that should've happened but wouldn't fit and just  
> This was kind of a weird thing, I know. Really different from the first story, but whatever.
> 
> anyways
> 
> for those of you wondering
> 
> harry never told tom the real, full story of the future. tom never asks.


End file.
